


Protector

by ElizaMay36



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley knew each other before the fall, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Gabriel is a child in the begining, Influences from greek mythology, M/M, Pandoras box, Raphael and Gabriel have a brotherly bond, Raphael teaches Gabriel to become an archangel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-15 05:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19605646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaMay36/pseuds/ElizaMay36
Summary: Who was Crowley before he fell? What were the events that lead up to his fall from grace? And, what was his relationship with Aziraphale before, and how did it change after and through out the centuries?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I took the Raphael hc, combined it with the hc that Az and Crowley knew each other before the fall and paired it up with some of my own hc's and turned it into a fanfic. Hope you enjoy :))

His first memory was, and always would be, the overwhelming brightness of heavenly light. From the moment he opened his perfect golden eyes, he was engulfed in a brightness indescribable. It was the first thing he ever saw. He had not heard yet, and had spoken not a word until a few moments later. 

“What-” he said softly, his new found voice almost a whisper. “What is-”

And then he heard the first voice he’d ever hear. A soft kind, motherly voice, although mothers weren’t technically a thing yet, swept over him and silenced him. 

“Hush, my child,” the voice said through the brightness. “Close your eyes.”

He did as he was told, and felt something cradle his face. 

“You are Raphael, archangel, and you will be the protector and healer of people on my Earth,” the voice spoke to him in such a soft but determined tone, that though he was not sure what people or earth was just yet, he believed and knew everything the voice told him to be fact. 

“Yes,” he answered her, feeling a surge of pride and love course through his new being. 

“You are my son, Raphael. You will obey and listen to me, your mother, your holiness, the almighty.” He nodded slowly as he felt for the first time fingers course through his hair. 

“Yes,” he answered her again. He felt something press against his forehead, (he did not know what it was until thousands of years later, a kiss) and heard the voice chuckle. 

“I have made you with a purpose, and I trust you to fulfill your purpose, my child,” the voice’s touch left him, but even with it gone, he did not open his eyes again until the voice commanded him to. 

“Now, open your eyes. See the universe around you. Stretch out your wings, and take flight my child, for you are born.”

With this, he did as he was told. He unfurled his wings, and after a few hasty flaps took off, into the clouds, seeing for the first time in his life, God’s pale blue sky.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who was Crowley before he fell? What were the events that lead up to his fall from grace? And, what was his relationship with Aziraphale before, and how did it change after and through out the centuries?

Thousands of years later, on evenings after drinking large unholy amounts of alcohol, and if he was alone in a quiet place, he would grimly recall his past as an angel and compare the majority of his work to the work of artists such as Leonardo de Vinci had done during the Earthly renaissance. There were, of course, many deferences between the two, but they started off the same. A blank canvas.

Returning to the present timeline of our story though, he did not know what a blank canvas was, and instead stared deeply into the black void in front of him that would one day be called space. As for now, it was rather barren and… Boring. Which was where he came in.

Closing his eyes, he summoned all the energy within him to produce holy light. The light fell into his hands in small little beads, and when he was done, he opened his eyes and tossed them out into the space in front of him. They floated for a moment before hanging in the air, their lights, though covering only a tiny little bit of the large void that still needed to be filled, they illuminated away some of the darkness, causing the archangel to smile as their warmth fell upon his face. They were beautiful. Stars, they called them.

With the lights glimmering in his eyes, he reached out and touched them. They were soft and warm, and his wings fluttered triumphantly as he gazed upon his work. Of course, there was still so much work to be done, and it would take more than just an afternoon to hang up all the stars but… A start was a start, and they were beautiful. The work ahead though did not seem to bother him. Instead, he felt a great sense of peace and contempt. He could have stood there forever, gazing upon the stars and continuing to hang more up for as long as he could, if it had not been for-

“Raphael!”

He grimaced, and stepped away from the void and the twinkling creations to look over the marble railing. Of course… Building space was not a one angel job. And unfortunately, for the archangel, it meant he had to bring his pupil along with him where ever he worked.

“Yes, Gabriel?” he asked, doing his best to address the younger angel with a compassionate tone. Gabriel stood below him, standing in what was built so far of The Garden, and he smiled widely up at Raphael as he lifted something he held in his hands.

“Look, it’s weird looking right?!” The thing he held was in fact very much weird looking. It was small and brown in color, with tall ears and a small, fluffy tail.

“What is it?” Raphael questioned as he leaned his elbows against the railing.

“Michael says they’re calling it a ‘rabbit’,” Gabriel said as his attention was turned back to the creature, who’s long ears twitched when he scratched its head. Raphael couldn’t help but smile slightly as he watched the boy, but was quick to try and bring his attention back on what they were doing.

“Gabriel, as your assigned archangel, you should be up here with me watching me work,” Raphael reminded him. The angel’s smile fell away, and he pouted.

“But… The garden is so much more interesting then anything you could be doing, and besides, look how cute it is!”

“Gabriel,” Raphael said sternly. “If you ever wish to become an archangel yourself I suggest you listen to me.”

The angel rolled his eyes before setting the furry animal back down into the grass, and to the shock of both angel and archangel alike, the thing began to hop away.

Raphael could already see that Gabriel’s attention once again belonged to the rabbit, and quickly cleared his throat, causing the boy to groan and look back up at him.

“Yes?” the angel asked. Before the archangel could respond, a ringing sound, very bell like in nature, cut through all other noise. It was time to go to their next job. Raphael sighed, and glanced back over his shoulder at the few stars he’d hung up. He really had gotten hardly anything done. No matter. He would return the next day and continue his work. For now, his attention was needed else where, and Gabriel was to follow him.

“Come now,” Raphael began, fluttering his wings, preparing them for flight. “It’s time to leave the garden


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who was Crowley before he fell? What were the events that lead up to his fall from grace? And, what was his relationship with Aziraphale before, and how did it change after and through out the centuries?

Somewhere, not too terribly far away from the garden that was a work in progress, was another archangel, making his way hastily through the large marble halls of the Almighty’s heavenly abode. He had long, wavy ebony locks of hair that cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. His wings were white with a golden glow about them, and his eyes…. His eyes were as crimson red as the most beautiful roses of spring. All of this paired with his pale, glowing skin made him rather beautiful… If not incredibly fearsome as well.

He had an air about him that was almost… Arrogant. He held his head high, and puffed his broad chest out. He was confident and strong. Everyone respected him, for he was intimidating with both his looks and his way about him. He had a way of getting what he wanted, which was why he here this afternoon. 

He paused in front of the doors to the throne room where two principalities stood guarding. 

“State your business,” one of them said as he approached, as the two on guard blocked his entrance way to the door. He smile coolly at them, baring his teeth. 

“I wish to speak with the almighty,” he stated. When one of the guards raised a brow at him, he chuckled, a sound that resonated deep in his chest. “She is… Expecting me.”

The two guards looked at each other before nodding to the archangel, and stood to one side so that he could gain excess. The doors were opened, and with a smirk, he entered. 

The metatron stood beside the stairs leading to the Almighty’s throne, and with a scowl caste upon the archangel, motioned for him to approach. The smirk never leaving his face, the archangel approached the bottom of the stairs and sunk down on one knee. 

“My lord,” he purred, his voice smooth and warm. A loving, maternal chuckle could be heard from the blinding holy light that was the Almighty, sat upon her holy throne. 

“Lucifer. Rise, my son,” the Almighty spoke. The angel gazed up at his creator and did as he was instructed with a smile. 

“You appear well, mother dearest,” Lucifer noted as he took a step closer to the almighty’s throne. 

“I am quite well, my child. Preparations for Earth are well underway. Everything is going to my divine plan.” No one else saw it, not even the Almighty herself, but the smile worn by the archangel turned momentarily into a scowl of complete and utter disgust before the warm, faux pas smile returned almost as quickly as it had left. 

“How wonderful. Yes, I’ve seen Michael’s and the others work down there in the garden, it’s looking absolutely marvelous mother. Impressive work.” He caught a glance at the metatron eyeing him suspiciously before he returned his attention to the almighty. 

“As to… Why I’m here though, my lord. I’ve been thinking. I worked my way up to being an Archangel. And… While it has been just as fulfilling as I had hoped it to be, I’ve begun to wounder.”

A moment of silence passed between Heavenly mother and angelic son. 

“Wounder what, my child?” the Almighty finally asked. He smirked slightly. 

“Well… I feel as if… I’m not doing the work I could be doing for your magnificent Earth as an Archangel and… Well, I was wondering if there was anyway I could become a Principality?” 

Silence. It was longer this time, but even with this prolonged silence, Lucifer did not feel worried. Not to boast, by he was, in a certain light, one of ‘mother’s’ favorites. There was no possible way she could deny him what he wanted.

“Become… A Principality?” It was the metatron who broke the silence, eyes widened in disbelief. Lucifer smirked at him before his eyes shifted to the heavenly light of the Almighty. 

“Yes, a Principality. I think I’m very qualified for such a position and-”

“Lucifer, are you unhappy with your position? The one you worked very hard to achieve?” the Almighty interjected, the warmth in her voice gone now. Lucifer hardly shuttered at the sudden loss of warmth in her voice, but was momentarily stunned.

“Oh no, it’s not that at all. I only wish to better serve you, my lord,” he said, quickly remembering himself as he smile and inclined his head in a slight bow. Though no one could see it through the blinding light, the Almighty drummed her fingers on the arm of her throne, eyes glaring upon her son whom she could see right through.

“Well… That’s the thing. I think you’re serving me just find in the position you have now, Lucifer. Why change?” With these words, the pupils of his eyes grew smaller as his smile remained unchanged. He was… Stunned.  
“Right…,” he said slowly, as if he didn’t quite believe what was happening. Silence. And then their was a deep sigh that came from the heavenly mother. “So… You’ll think about it, then, at least?”

“Perhaps,” the almighty answered thoughtfully. “But in the meantime, my answer is no.” 

Lucifer’s smile slowly faded away as his left eye twitched. Quickly though, the smile returned, though anyone able to read his eyes could tell it was anything but genuine. 

“Right… Well then… I shall return to my work,” he said, voice level and clam as a raging storm began to build up behind his crimson eyes. He bowed slowly, remembering to show his utmost respect. “Good day… My lord.”

And with that, the archangel turned on his heel, his white cloak whirling around his legs as he did the motion, and promptly left the throne room, silently seething behind a smile. 

The almighty sighed once the door was closed after the archangel and she shook her head. 

“That could have gone worse,” she stated. The metatron squirmed uncomfortably as he pursed his lips. No no no, this would not do. No servant of her’s would keep secrets. 

“If you have something you wish to say, out with it?” she said sternly. The metatron glanced at her cautiously. 

“Permission to speak then, your grace?” he asked. 

“Permission granted.”

“My lord,” the metatron urgently left his post beside her and bowed down to her at the bottom of the stairs to her throne, “Forgive me, but… I fear that archangel maybe too arrogant.”

The almighty scoffed. 

“Lucifer? Arrogant? My, my, who would have known?” she said with a sarcastic dryness to her voice that made herself chuckle. “That’s just how he is. He’s always been head strong and determined. Impulsive? Sure. But he’s a good angel. Gets work done.”

“But… Your grace, couldn’t you see the fire in his eyes it’s…,” he trailed off slowly. 

“It’s… What?” the almighty pushed, urging for him to finish his thought. 

“It’s hungry. Like… Like he craves to move up the ranks.”

“So he’s ambitious. I’m an ambitious woman myself, I see no issue with that,” the almighty replied simply with a shrug of her shoulders. 

“But… Aren’t you concerned that… With that kind of hunger… One day, being an archangel or a principality will not be enough for him?” The almighty frowned and thought about this for a moment. 

“Perhaps… We shall keep an eye on him then. But I trust Lucifer, you understand. He is one of my creations, one of my children, and I do not have any doubt in him that he will not carry out his duties as an archangel as he is supposed to.” The metatron opened his mouth to say something else, when an unseen, heavenly hand rose to silence him. 

“But… I will watch him for any signs of him becoming… Corrupt,” the almighty finished. “Now rise and return to your post here beside me.”  
A knock came upon the doors just as she finished, and God’s attention was pulled away from her servant. 

“Come in!” she called. A moment later, the doors swung open and one of the guards stepped in. 

“Your holiness, the Principality, Aziraphale, is here.”


End file.
